The Boy, the Ghost and the Cat
by Viviane Renard
Summary: An unlikely trio try to make sense of a post-apocalyptic world. Crow's big revelation is that he is a cat-human super hybrid. Mild Crow/Seto, but moreso a story of strange friendships in a stranger world.
1. Chapter 1

In the game I thought Crow acted much more like a super cat-human hybrid than a robot (the eyes, attitude, acrobatics). Here's an AU where I make my cat-boy dream a reality. This AU follows the beginning of the story fairly closely with a few aesthetic changes, and then takes a sharp turn into the unknown. It'll probably end up as a four of five chapter short story. Buckle up and enjoy the ride!

Disclaimer: Namco, tri-Crescendo, Xseed Games, Rising Star Games, and Kentaro Kawashima all own a slice of _Fragile Dreams: Farewell Ruins of the Moon_. I'm just borrowing some play toys from them.

**Cat and Mouse**

CHAPTER ONE

"Seto?" the Personal Frame hesitantly asked the young boy huddled near the campfire. Seto had carefully arranged the Personal Frame in an illogically human position—facing the fire and slightly turned to him. Her—its—_her_, she decided, _her_ advice of turning her outward to keep a constant vigilance against enemies had been wasted on his stubbornness. Each time she listed off the tactical advantages of keeping watch, he frowned and repeated the same incomputable excuse of them both "needing a break." She did not want to "break," which would only impair her abilities. She did not need warmth or sleep or the visual signal of safety that a campfire meant. As a machine, she needed very few things other than batteries and a hard drive.

The boy continued to stroke the fire as if in a trance. Each jab of the stick brought a wave of warmth. The accompanying, brief flare made Seto and the PV's shadows twist across the mall's peeling-paint walls like a macabre shadow show. His wispy brown hair, a glowing halo from the light, hugged his baby face and emphasized his childishly hurt expression. Fifteen years old and going on both fifty and five, Seto could efficiently kill unimaginable horrors that would break lesser men, and in the same breath break down crying, railing against the injustice of his mere existence signing his death sentence.

"Seto?" she repeated louder after a long stretch of silence.

Shaking himself from his daze, he gave her a weak smile and said in his soft manner, "Sorry, I was just thinking..." He drifted off, then picked up the frayed threads of his sentence, "What can I do for you? You cozy where you are or do you want me to move you?"

"No, I am fine...but thank you. While debugging my database, I realized that my file on the world's end is incomplete. The minor water damage I suffered corrupted several files, including that one. What happened?"

The edges of Seto's smile sagged, barely holding its shape. "I wish I could tell you...but I don't know anything either. I was born the year it happened, and Grandfather only spoke of it once. He told me it was like everyone got tired of living and decided to sleep forever. No news reports, no newspapers...humanity's obituary was indifferent silence."

"Do you ever get tired?" the PV asked, like a child unabashed to ask obvious and personal questions.

"Of course I get tired, but that's what a purpose is for—to keep you moving."

"What motivates you?"

Seto paused, stalling for time by prodding the fire to new heights. "Well, I guess it's my belief that there are others out there, just as lost and alone as I am. And if we find each other...we won't be so lost and alone."

"Like the silver-haired girl?"

He reacted as if she had physically punched him, closing his eyes and doubling over. The stick clattered to the dirty tile floor as the silver-haired girl's image played over his closed eyelids. Her wide eyes had seared him across the distance, literally taking his breath away. She had eyes the same pale shade of violet as the lilies floating in the moonlit pool, her silken skin the color of the white moon. She was a marble goddess standing calf deep in a caved-in parking lot's pond. Before he could draw in enough air to call out to her, she had sprinted away on delicate legs so like a deer's, creating sprays of crystalline water droplets in her wake. He didn't even know her name.

But he knew now that he was not alone.

Once he regained enough control of himself, he straightened up. He said nothing more than, "Yes," but he exhaled it with such fervor that it sounded like a prayer, like a cry for salvation.

PV paused, and then her next statement came out slowly, as if an unexpected revelation, "I too am glad I met you. Although I wish our circumstances had been less dire. I think we could have become...'friends'...in another life. I am ninety-five percent positive."

Seto said nothing for a long time, only rubbing vigorously the corner of a glistening eye. Drawing in a shaky breath and pasting on a smile, he enticed the Personal Frame with the question, "Now, tell me more about what malls used to be like, before all _this_ happened..." and listened to how her passion for knowledge made her voice beautifully human.

* * *

Seto wearily climbed the rungs of the ladder out of the dilapidated mall. He was tired of breathing in the mildew decay of the underground maze, of touching rusty reminders of humanity's ruin. Climbing out into a dark tunnel, he rubbed the ladder's rust flecks from his hands and inhaled fresh air for the first time in days. He walked forward without looking back at the dark opening in the ground, but every time he blinked he saw the image of a shallow grave and a radio antenna sticking out crookedly.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, he blinked—_a slipshod grave dug from barren soil_—to adjust to the pale moonlight. He squinted and the fantastical unfurled itself to him, like a mirage solidifying into reality. Seto gazed at the broken down carnival that, despite its ruined state, still wore its colors gaily. A lucky cat statue sat upon the dry fountain, welcoming Seto with his uplifted paw and knowing smile. 'PV would have loved to explain how—' but he did not have the strength to finish that thought. The wound was still too fresh.

When a human face with green cat-like eyes stuck itself aggressively in Seto's face, the young boy did not have the emotional strength to wonder or care that another human being existed. He just shrunk down to shield himself from the cat's bullying questions.

When the older boy touched his precious golden locket, practically caressing it as if he were imaging himself wearing it, it woke Seto up from his funk enough to feel defensive and truly see the cat boy for the first time. Underneath an oversized purple captain hat, unruly dark hair framed a lean, hungry face. Luminous green cat eyes sat above thin, mocking lips. The boy's clothing had psychedelic spirals, and the most striking ornament was the taxidermic crow head worn on his chest like a badge of honor.

When the cat-like boy stole his locket and ran away in a whirlwind of spiteful laughter and taunts, Seto fell to the ground and cried the tears he had been unable to summon while burying PV.

After the hiccups subsided and he had rubbed his cheeks raw, he silently picked himself up and gave chase.

* * *

A boy—_man_—who did not normally question his actions, for once Crow wondered what possessed him to take his game to such an extreme. He watched the frail boy determinedly dragged himself up the ferris wheel's side, his fear evident in his trembling hands and white knuckles. The spindly spokes of the ferris wheel webbed across the moon like manmade tree branches, and the white light washed the colors out into indistinguishable pale copies.

He hated the foreign feeling of guilt; it ran through his veins like a nauseating poison. He had raised himself in this fun park, scampering up rides to scream at the staring moon, killing crows with his bare hands and fighting hellish hounds for scraps of food. He never once questioned why someone took the time to teach him to speak and read before abandoning him here with nothing more than a photo and a stack of children books. If not for the adventure books he lovingly read every day, the years of isolation surely would have reduced his speech to the barks, hisses and caws of the animals that inhabited his domain. He didn't care about life before the park—he was Peter Pan, he neither had nor needed parents.

He had no one but himself, no moral compass but his own desires. What made him feel good was good, what made him feel bad was bad. Guilt made him feel bad, so it was bad. It undermined his absolute confidence in his own judgment, like a nagging parent who scolded that actions have consequences.

Rebelling against the feeling that robbed him of his fun, Crow whooped and did a back flip on the thin ferris wheel sign. He landed perfectly, and the rusty metal groaned and vibrated violently under his feet in protest. The tingling sensation traveled up his body and shook loose the guilt.

He chortled, the sound half laugh and half crow, as he watched the brown-haired boy make his slow ascent. It amused Crow to see something so pathetic try so hard. How had this human even survived this long?

"Please," the boy said softly, trying to drag himself up the sign's side to reach Crow, "that locket is precious. Please give it back."

In response, Crow raised himself to a handstand and used his hands to walk away from the boy. He stopped on one hand and, balancing perfectly with a graceful twist of his body and legs, lifted the other hand dramatically before letting the locket tumble through his fingers to dangle before the boy. Lit from behind by the bright full moon, the thin chain disappeared in the light and left the golden locket floating in space. "This old thing? It's mine, I found it years ago. You calling me a liar?"

Something about the boy's look twisted his gut and made this not fun. He knew as soon as his hand pushed off the metal to send him into the air that something had gone wrong with his balance. He always landed on his feet, no matter how he fell, but this time his stomach clenched with fear, an alien feeling for the acrobat. He twisted madly to land on his feet, sighing visibly in relief when he felt metal tremble underneath his toes, only to have his off centered weight pull him off the side of the sign. His hands wind milling vainly, he glanced at the boy as he fell down and saw the softy's horrified expression spell out his doom. Without thought, he hurled the locket at the boy before crashing through the merry-go-round's ornate roof.

* * *

He clawed his way desperately out of the murky oblivion that threatened to drown him. A white light from the surface reached his face under the water. The churning water fragmented the light's circular source into a million little shifting stars. Each stroke to the water's shimmering surface wracked his body with pain and yet strengthened the sensation of a mother's warm embrace. Forgetting his pride, his name, his purpose, he was reduced to one powerful, all-consuming thought that drove him towards the pain and light.

'I want to live.'

His head broke through the surface and he drew the sweetest breath he had ever taken. Water streaming down his face and neck, he gazed up at the full moon.

* * *

The still body cradled in Seto's arms suddenly inhaled, recovering from having the wind knocked out of him. Crow blinked open his eyes and gazed dazedly at the moon and Seto's hovering face. He reached for the moon and his shaky fingers found the boy's smooth white cheek instead. He pulled him down, or drew himself up, and kissed salvation.

The glazed peace on his face disappeared into a fit of coughs as Crow hunched over. Seto quickly dropped his hold and stepped back to give the boy space, leaving Crow colder. He longed to fold himself into a comforting hug, a weakness he had once scorned, and for the first time in his life he had a desire to know the man in the photo.

"Are you okay?" the boy hiccupped, trying to swipe discreetly at his cheeks.

Mirroring the child's action, Crow touched his fingers to his own face and felt his damp skin. It strangely reminded him of surfacing from a river, like a full-body baptism. He never cried, could not in fact, and came to the only conclusion he could: "Why did you cry all over me? Real men never cry."

The brunet shrugged and gave a helpless smile. "I couldn't help it. I was worried."

Despite the debilitating pain in his limbs and the knife that stabbed his chest every time he breathed, Crow felt an inexplicable lightening of his body. "You were?"

"Of course! I was afraid you were, well...you know..."

"Dead?" Crow's knowing eyes held amusement, watching the boy's struggle to avoid saying the obvious.

The boy tried to hide his expression by turning his face to the side, uncomfortable with Crow's stare or trying to spare Crow from his sadness, but nothing could hide the pained look that spoke volumes. Wanting to express himself yet lacking the right words, Crow pulled out a silver ring and folded it into the boy's small hands. He brought the loosely cupped hands to his lips and gently kissed the fingers as he had seen the Prince do to the Princess in one of his books.

The boy's cheeks blushed red and he gently extracted his hands from Crow's grasp, uncomfortable but not wanting to hurt Crow's feelings. He shuffled away a few steps and leaned against a wooden horse on the merry-go-round. Roaming beasts and the elements had chipped the horse's gilded gold mane, revealing the rough wood underneath. To break the silence, the boy said, "I never got your name. What is it?"

Crow grinned his best, pointiest smile, puffed out his chest and declared proudly, "The name's Crow! And now a true gentleman would return the favor."

"My name's Seto."

"Seto, huh? How unsurprisingly common," the raven-haired boy teased playfully. "Well, Seto, I have a mission I need to fulfill, but I promise I'll come back for you once I'm done. Friends should stick together." As if afraid of the repercussions, Crow leaned in lightning-fast and chastely kissed Seto's forehead before vaulting away over the carousel horses. He did a show-off flip off the last horse's back and hit the ground running, his yellow scarf flapping ostentatiously behind him like a bright canary tail. He ignored Seto's cry of "wait!"

Seto sighed and ran an agitated hand through his wispy brown hair. "I'm sorry Crow," he said to the empty amusement park that creaked and swayed in the wind, "but I can't wait around for you. I have an important mission I need to fulfill too. Hopefully our paths will cross again, somehow. I would like to be your friend too."

The words felt like shovelfuls of dirt, burying another friend. The savage world rarely let people live long enough for second chance encounters.

Opening his fist to inspect the silver ring, Seto held it to the moonlight and saw the silhouette of a black crow in flight.


	2. Chapter 2

Another year, another chapter. How consistent of me. Writing this chapter brought back memories of playing Fragile Dreams a year ago, how nostalgic.

Disclaimer: Namco, tri-Crescendo, Xseed Games, Rising Star Games, and Kentaro Kawashima all own a slice of _Fragile Dreams: Farewell Ruins of the Moon_. I'm just borrowing some play toys from them.

**Cat and Mouse**

CHAPTER TWO

Days after meeting Crow, the eccentrically dressed boy already felt like something Seto's exhausted mind had dreamt up. If not for the silver ring's weight in his pocket, he would've believed that he had hallucinated the whole thing. His bone-weary fatigue and the constant threat of danger leeched away his memories, making days stretch into years in his mind. The world held a whole myriad of deadly experiences vying for his attention, which made it dangerous to let his mind drifty away from the present. What kept him going, the only memory he allowed himself to cherish, was his driving desire to meet _her_, the silver-haired girl.

He spent hungry days and cold nights wandering through the wooded paths behind the amusement park. When his wanderings brought him to a dilapidated building hidden in the woods, Seto excitedly picked up his pace. Maybe he would find _her_ here, or at least another survivor.

He entered the Kurato Kankou Hotel with hope in his heart, and while his prayers weren't exactly answered, he did make a new friend.

Within one of the many unkempt guest rooms, he met a friendly ghost. Her glowing, translucent skin was an intricate collage of gauze wrappings and surgical black dashed lines. Even in death, her body was a doctor's memo. She carefully rearranged her bangs to further hide her eye patch, and peered out at him shyly from her good eye. Hovering awkwardly over her dead body, which looked to be asleep in a halo of bandages and pills, the ghost girl smiled shakily and said, "I wish you hadn't seen…me like that, but I guess it's too late now. It's nice to meet you anyway, my name's Sai. Who are you?"

Not wanting to be rude, Seto tried to avoid gawking at her corpse as she talked, although its silent presence made him very uncomfortable. He tried for a smile and said, "I'm Seto. It's nice to meet you too."

* * *

Sai hovered worriedly over Seto, who was leaning tiredly against one of the hotel's dirty walls. Paint chips drift to the floor every time he shifted his position. "Are you okay, Seto?" she asked him. "We can rest for a while if you need it. There's plenty of daylight left."

"I'm fine, Sai," he stated gently, although his fatigued stance belayed his words. "I don't need rest, I need to get Chiyo's moon so that we can get into that room."

"Seto...maybe your silver-haired girl's not even in that room. Maybe she never went there in the first place. Chiyo might be toying with you."

"No," Seto protested forcefully, surprising both Sai and himself with his outburst. In a softer voice, he said hopefully, "No, she can't be. We both saw the cat drawings outside of that door. Even if she's not there now, she was there before. We might be able to find a clue as to where she's headed next if we can search the room."

Sai held up her hands defensively; Seto could see her appeasing expression through her translucent palms. The visual overlap always disoriented Seto. It was like putting together two pieces of thin paper with drawings on them, and then holding them up to the sunlight to get a nonsensical picture. He often forgot that she was dead because of her warmth and human habits, but little details like that would always shock him into remembering.

Drawing him out of his sad reverie, Sai wheedled, "I'm not saying we should give up. I'm just trying to prepare you for a letdown. Chiyo seems like the ghost of a spoiled little girl who has no one left to boss. Children like that'll tell you anything to get you to do what they want. I mean, don't you find it a little ridiculous that she makes you fetch a star and moon? She's sending you on wild goose chases."

"They only seem pointless because they aren't your precious objects." His hand unconsciously sought out his locket resting on his chest as he said those words.

Sai looked at those delicate fingers resting on the locket, and her gaze softened. She tried to reason gently, "When you gave her the star, she didn't thank you. She got disappointed and huffy that you had succeeded. What kind of person gets angry when someone succeeds at helping them out?"

"Some people just have a funny way of showing gratitude. That's all."

She let the subject drop, and instead asked, "Where do you think her moon is?"

Without hesitation, Seto said, "At the nearby carnival. I remember seeing it on one of the rides or signs. The sooner we get it, the sooner we can find _her_."

The way he breathed that last word with such hope, they both knew exactly whom he meant. Sai tried to squash the petty jealousy that word evoked. She imagined folding that ugly feeling into a tiny paper square, like the notes she used to pass to her friends in middle school, and then tearing it up. She knew it was unfair of her to be jealous of the silver-haired girl simply because no one cared for her the same way.

With determination, Seto pushed himself away from the wall and continued down the hallway. He entered the gloomy hotel lobby and was greeted by its vacant, sinister atmosphere. A few keys dangled uselessly on the hooked board behind the front desk, and a huge, intricate spider web spread across half the mailboxes. Having already read the spray-painted morbid mantras of "No hope" and "Run while you can" that littered the walls, he made his way to the building's exit. His flashlight swept the water-soaked walls and ragged carpet, on high alert for ghosts. The children especially loved playing in the lobby. He tensed as he heard the patter of small feet and gleeful laughter.

Frightened, Sai folded into herself and disappeared, leaving Seto alone to handle the hotel's fiendish occupants. The spoiled children who had terrorized the hotel staff in life now played an eternal game of murderous tag. Seto feared coming into contact with any of the fiendish supernatural, but he especially hated fighting the ghost children. Something twisted painfully in him every time they drug him into their perversion of a children's game. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, to see an innocent game so warped. It made him feel his own childhood slipping farther and farther away.

Even as Seto quickened his pace to leave the room, a fit of giggles echoed through the dark hotel lobby. "Here I cooooome," one of the ghosts drawled in a singsong voice.

Whipping around, Seto shone the light on the approaching figure. Its headless body rushed him, its hands waving blindly. He sidestepped it and slugged it with his lead pipe. It crumpled to the ground, and he violently pounded its writhing chest a few more times before it disappeared with a high-pitch scream of fury. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, sweeping his flashlight around nervously. There was never just one.

He spotted one in front of him and braced for its charge, which left him open to the icy hands tugging his clothes from behind. Seto tried to shake it off, but the child delivered a swift, powerful kick to his calf before running away, giggling. Cold sweat broke out on his face and torso from the deathly touch even as the injury pumped liquid fire through his leg. Favoring his weakened leg, Seto turned to face his original target. He dodged its charge and delivered a hit to its back, but his weak swing had no impact. It laughed at him and kept running, arms outstretched and hands tilted up like airplane wings.

Knowing he had lost the upper hand, Seto limped out of the lobby to the hotel's entrance before the ghosts could regroup for round two. In the end, it didn't really matter if he fought or ran. His attacks could only dispel them for a few hours, which always made each win a bitter victory.

Besides, he hated the violence. Each time he pummeled one of the children's fragile, headless bodies, he felt sick. He could still remember the pile of small, child-sized skulls that he had found in the first floor janitor closet, rotting flesh still clinging to the bones. They had been stacked carelessly with no effort to hide them, and Seto had nearly vomited from the stench and shock of finding them. The apocalypse had turned many men into monsters, but Seto still shuddered to think about how those skulls had gotten there. Surely those headless ghosts had a reason to hate the living.

What worried Seto was how easily his mind had supplied an explanation for the skulls in the closet, and how detailed and violent his imagination had made it. Seto was sometimes afraid of what kind of person the apocalypse was turning him into.

When he found the silver-haired girl, would she even like him?

As soon as he got out of danger's way, Sai reappeared. She floated over him, sickly even in death. She peered at him with concern and asked, "How does your leg feel?"

She wished she could reach out a hand and help him. She had only met the young boy a week ago, but already she thought of him fondly. His kind and sensitive nature reminded her of how children should act—or at least, how they had acted before the apocalypse. When he said he was fifteen in his high, quiet voice, she wanted to cry and bundle him in her nonexistent arms. He had been born the year the world went to hell. He never knew the taste of ice cream, had never experienced walking down a sidewalk without a weapon and feeling completely safe. He never went to school, never got a chance to charm all his classmates with his gentle nature or have his biggest worry be a wardrobe malfunction.

"It's fine," Seto said, voice a little too tight to be true. "Let's go, I want to make it to the amusement park before sundown. It took me a couple of days to get here in the first place, but I had no clue where I was going. If we take a direct route and keep up a fast pace, it should only take us a couple of hours."

Sai hovering over him, Seto limped out of the sinister hotel. He refused to vocalize his pain, instead exhaling sharply from his nose every time he put too much pressure on his wounded leg. Behind them, the hotel's sagging roof and broken windows leered drunkenly at him, like bloodied boxer with all his teeth smashed in. Leaving the gloomy image behind, they made their way down the dirt path to the carnival. Trees curled over them to create a natural tunnel of soft green light.

As predicted, they reached the amusement park's backdoor entrance after a couple hours of walking at a brisk pace. In red letters was written "Moon Hill Wai-Wai Land property. Authorized personnel only." Ignoring the obsolete warning, Seto jimmied the door until it protestingly creaked open. Stepping through the door, the sight of the park in daylight shocked him. He had only been there before at night. Under the night's gentle administration, the park had seemed pale but whimsical. The faint suggestion of color at night had teased the mind to paint a bold daytime scenery overflowing with vibrant hues. True daylight dispelled that illusion, as the sun had leeched the vibrancy from every color. The rides and tents looked bleached and brittle, like tinder ready to catch fire.

He saw the caved in roof of the battered merry-go-round and, for the first time in days, remembered Crow. The half-wild boy from his memories seemed so unreal, like a fantastic apparition that only belonged to the moonlight. Seto carefully picked his way through the splintered pieces of the carousel's former roof and found the wooden horse he hid behind after Crow's endearing but uncomfortable displays of friendship. He tenderly caressed its chipped gilded gold mane, like an owner with an ailing, old pet. But when his hand brushed up against the other side of the horse's face, he quickly jerked away as a thousand pricks of pain stabbed his hand. Frowning, Seto inspected the horse's other side and realized half its face had been mauled off by something with wicked claws, leaving jagged splinters sticking every which way.

It made him inexplicably sad to see such loving craftsmanship destroyed.

He retraced his steps out of the mess of a merry-go-round and said to the quiet, observing Sai, "Let's go. I think I remember seeing a moon on the daycare center's sign."

As they respectively limped or floated past the rusted bumper cars, Sai asked softly, "Not that I'm complaining, but isn't it kind of creepy that nothing's attacked us yet?"

"You're right. I didn't notice it before, but it really is too quiet. Maybe the ghosts don't want to come out during the day? The last time I came here, it was night."

"I hope so, but please be extra careful. I'm worried something even nastier is making all the small fries go to ground," she said. Seto nodded grimly and drew his iron pipe, looking around warily. They made it to the daycare center without a hitch, which only wound them up tighter. In this world, _nothing_ was ever this easy. Seto used his iron pipe as a crutch to reduce the weight he put on his leg. It already felt much better, but he worried about it acting up if it came to a demanding fight.

They found the moon right where Seto remembered it, nailed to a board advertising the park's daycare services: "So that adults can have fun too!" Seto leaned his iron pipe against the wall and braced his feet on the ground, ready to try to tug the moon off.

"Wait!" Sai said anxiously. "Are you sure you want to try that with your bare hands? It looks like it's nailed down pretty tight, and you'll only stress your injury if you use brute force. Maybe we can find some sort of crowbar to wedge in there and pop it off?"

Even through his exhaustion, Seto gave her a smile—the kind that crinkled up his eyes at the corners, and made her almost feel warm again—and teased, "Have some faith in me. I might be a pipsqueak, but this sign looks like it's on its last limb too."

Seto licked his lips and wrapped his hands firmly around the wooden moon. With a forceful tug, the moon gave up the ghost and broke free from the sign. Smiling triumphantly, he turned to flaunt his vanquished prize, only to hear Sai scream in pain.

Without thinking, he dropped the moon and grabbed his iron pipe. He whirled around with the iron pipe raised above his head, ignoring the stabbing pain in his injured leg. He saw Sai frantically trying to push away a solid black blob, but her hands only went through its form. With the black blob between Seto and Sai, the only part he could see of his ghostly friend was her arms sticking out of the creature's back. The way her insubstantial arms flailed as she tried in vain to push it off gave an air of grotesquerie to the form before him.

The black form shifted and Sai screamed again. With a shout of anger, Seto brought down the weapon on the monster's center with all his force. It fell to the ground with a hissing exhale of air. When it stood up again it whirled around to face Seto and become Crow in a billowing black cloak.

Too shocked to react to this sudden change, Seto let Crow tear the iron pipe from his hands. The boy before him was a stranger, wild and angry and nothing like the Crow he knew. There was hardly any recognition in Crow's green eyes as his slitted pupils pierced Seto. The taller boy hurled the pipe away and hissed, "I'm trying to save your fucking life, back off."

"Leave him alone!" Sai shouted angrily with a touch of hysteria, hovering in the air again. Black blood flowed profusely from a wound in her side, dripping sluggishly to the ground and dissipating into nothingness. Fearing for her only friend's safety, she surged forward with the sudden courage anger gave her and lashed out at the stranger. Her eyes widened in surprise as her palm actually made contact with his cheek. Crow's head was forced to the side, and a red welt bloomed angrily on his cheek.

Crow growled and lunged toward her, but Seto held him back and pleaded, "Crow, stop! She's a friend!" When Sai lifted her hand to deliver another slap, anger and pain twisting her face into an ugly hostility, Seto cried to her, "You too, Sai! Stop fighting, I can explain!"

Muscles tensing under Seto's delicate fingers, the dangerous stranger whirled on Seto and forced him against the daycare wall. His accusing finger jabbed into Seto's shoulder and a growl rumbled from his chest. "Then talk! Explain why, when I got back three days ago, the best I could hope for was that you had died painlessly because_ you weren't there_. Explain why you're now consorting with _ghosts_. Or the logic behind beating a friend with an iron pipe for trying to save your life!"

By the end of his rant, Crow was breathing heavily and looking livid. The fists bunched into Seto's shirt were shaking visibly. Seto was afraid that Crow would punch his lights out, until he noticed the dark bags under the older boy's eyes, and how shiny those emerald cat eyes really were. He realized Crow's blustering anger hid unshed tears, exhaustion, and worry.

Feeling helpless and like a horrible friend, Seto could only shrug and give a small apologetic smile to convey how sorry he was. With this disarming act, it was as if all the fight left Crow. He deflated with a huge sigh and let his lanky frame sag against the smaller boy. When Crow's nose nestled into the niche between Seto's neck and shoulder and his strong arms encircled Seto, Seto did the only thing possible: embrace him back. He saw Sai's pissed off look, and shot her an expression of apologetic helplessness.

_Explanation. Later_, she mouthed to him, and he nodded back. She cradled her wounded side delicately, black liquid slowly escaping between her fingers. She definitely deserved an explanation, and a good one at that, considering he was now hugging her vicious attacker.

First, though, he had to defuse the more volatile problem currently wrapped around him.

"I'm sorry I made you worry, Crow, I didn't mean to. Last time, you left before I could explain that I had somewhere I needed to be too. I'm sorry we can't stay longer and properly explain what's going on, but we need to deliver this to a friend before nightfall," he said gently as he slipped out of Crow's grasp and leaned down to pick up the discarded moon. He winced as the pain in his leg flared up again. "If you want, we can meet you back here tomorrow morning. We can talk more then, I promise."

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily. Waiting around for you once was enough. I'm coming with you," the raven-haired boy said determinedly. He shook the dust out of his black cloak and retrieved Seto's pipe from the pond's edge where he had flung it. He shot a dirty look at the ghost girl before ignoring her presence entirely.

Playing the same game, Sai ignored Crow and asked Seto specifically, "Ready to head back, _Seto_?" Her overly sweet voice told Seto just how much trouble he was in.

"No time like the present," Seto squeaked, gulping nervously and feeling wretched that his only two friends in the world had tried to kill each other only minutes ago.

"Then lead the way, _Seto_," Crow said, pointedly stressing Seto's name as well.

A shaky truce formed, the trio left the rundown amusement park to its slow feverish death. Seto found himself stuck between two sullen companions, both sending off waves of murderous intent that did not exclude Seto himself. In the distance, a crow cawed in the woods. Seto was sure it was laughing at him.


	3. Chapter 3

Apologies for the long wait, for anyone still out there reading Fragile Dream fics. I also apologize if my writing is rusty; it's been a long while. It feels good to be writing again, though, after such a long break!

Disclaimer: Namco, tri-Crescendo, Xseed Games, Rising Star Games, and Kentaro Kawashima all own a slice of _Fragile Dreams: Farewell Ruins of the Moon_.

**Cat and Mouse**

CHAPTER THREE

With the setting of the sun, the trio decided to set up camp in the woods. They could have pushed themselves and made it to the hotel that night, but no one wanted to sleep in that skeleton of a building. It held too many ghosts and bad memories. Instead, they set up camp by the side of the dirt road, watching the weakening sunlight slowly concede ground to dusky twilight. Crow killed a few birds with a slingshot and Seto gathered fallen timber to start a fire. With a fire crackling merrily and the delicious smell of meat cooking on an open flame, Seto started to feel more human. The sun had been brutal that day, and during the long hours walking, Seto's leg had started acting up again. His healing injury had not appreciated the hard exercise, complaining with a throbbing pain that shot up his calf at every step, but Seto had gritted his teeth and pressed on with silent determination. They had to keep moving forward: to deliver the wooden moon, and ultimately, to find the silver-haired girl. Stopping was not an option.

The fat in one of the cooking birds popped and sizzled in the fire, startling Seto from his grim reverie. He lifted his hand from his calf, realizing he had been unconsciously rubbing it as his mind wandered.

Checking his two companions, he could tell they felt more at ease as well. Seto hoped that now, with the tension unwinding from everyone's faces, they would be able to have a civilized conversation. But first… He pulled a stick out of the fire, poked at and saw that the bird was finished, and bit into its crispy skin. Hot fat and warm meat melted in his mouth in utter bliss. Not being much of a hunter himself, he usually resorted to raiding vending machines and eating questionable vegetation.

He scarfed down a few more bites, feeling juices run down his cheek and fingers. Unable to contain his enthusiasm, he exclaimed, "This is fantastic!" Then he flushed, imagining that he probably looked very barbaric and overeager. Looking at his friends over his half-demolished bird, he was relieved to see them smiling at him. Although still self-conscious, he worked some meat off the bones and popped it into his mouth. Utter bliss indeed.

Crow picked his bird up at a more sedated pace, and drawled out, "Maybe I should have caught you ten more. I just didn't want to seem like too much of a showoff."

Even Sai seemed caught up in the ebullient mood. She gave a shaky smile, hugging her still stinging side, and said, "Modesty doesn't seem to suit you. And I'm sure Seto's stomach wouldn't complain either."

Although Crow's look held no warmth, a silent exchange took place between the ghost and boy. They had a common charge and goal, for the moment, and they could live—or in Sai's case, exist—with that fact. The apocalypse had brought about stranger things than a shaky alliance between the living and the dead.

Having finished most of his dinner, Seto sat back and asked the question that had been burning in the back of his mind, "Did you find what you were looking for? When you left the park, I mean."

Crow gave a noncommittal hum and leaned back himself, mirroring Seto's relaxed position. "Yes and no."

"That's no answer at all." Seto's pout had Crow grinning smugly.

"Tell you what. Answer a question of mine and I'll answer another of yours," Crow bargained.

The pout deepened, but Seto was not one to kick up a fuss. "Deal…but next time, I want a real answer."

"And a real answer you'll get. I'm a man of my word," Crow promised smoothly, feeling pleased and warm with the fire and his small victory. After a moment, the pleased feeling faded into seriousness when he asked, "What happened to your leg? You've been favoring it all day."

With a shrug both sheepish and dismissive, Seto said, "A child ghost kicked me. They're crawling all over the hotel, and one got me while I was distracted. Now, where did you go?"

"To a research facility," Crow said reluctantly, as if he wanted to say something more about Seto's injury but decided against it. Then he asked, "What were you doing in a hotel?"

"We're looking for other survivors. And…"—here he looked away from Crow to stare into the crackling fire, feeling his face heat up in a blush—"and for someone in particular. A silver-haired girl I met once in a parking lot."

A frown involuntarily tugged at Crow's mouth. Despite having never met this silver-haired girl, he didn't like how Seto stopped focusing on him when he talked about her. Seto's eyes got a distant look in them, and Crow suddenly felt invisible. Having found an audience to admire his prowess, he didn't like someone else stealing his spotlight. "And who's she?" If Crow's voice was a little snider than necessary, no one had to know that except him.

Unaware of the ugly undertones to Crow's question, Seto said with a mischievous look in his eyes, "I believe it's my turn to ask a question. What were you doing in a research facility?"

"I…I have this old photo. It's a picture of me when I was younger, with an old man. I could tell he was a scientist because of his lab coat. I don't remember anything of that time…but I went searching for the lab. Meeting you made me curious about my own past." Stubbornly, he repeated the question, "Who is _she_?"

The dreamy look returned full force. "She's…the most beautiful person I've ever met. She was as graceful as a deer, and shy too. Almost as soon as our eyes made contact, she ran away."

Sai smiled warmly at Seto's boyish enthusiasm. "In other words," she supplied, "we know next to nothing about her, other than the fact that she apparently likes to draw cats."

With a small scowl, Crow jabbed a stick into the fire, making it flare and shoot up embers. "I don't see what's so special about her."

Before Seto could jump in and defend her honor, Sai said, "She's the first person that Seto met, other than his grandfather."

The unpleasant burning sensation in Crow's belly twisted even further. Although he was unused to the emotion, he was pretty sure this was 'jealousy.' While _she_ might have been the first one Seto saw, he hoped that he was still the first one to kiss the gentle boy. He wanted to be able to stake some claim on his one and only friend. Wanting to change the subject, he asked, "Any final questions for me?"

Snapping out of his daydream, Seto said, "Oh, yes! Did you find out anything about your past at the lab?"

Now it was Crow's turn to slide his gaze away from Seto. He stared into the dancing flames, and after a long pause said, "I was…born…in that lab. I guess you could say that old man was my father, but I don't remember anything about him and feel nothing for him. When I found the lab, the computers were useless, and most of the paper files waterlogged. I found blood, but no bodies in the lab. I'm pretty sure they met a violent end, and something either ate or dragged them away. Or maybe they escaped, who knows." Crow glanced up nervously at Seto, as if assessing his reaction, then quickly reverted his gaze to the fire.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Crow. That's terrible." Seto imagined how terrible he would have felt if his grandpa had died violently, instead of peacefully in his bed and holding his grandson's hand. Even that had been a heartbreaking parting for Seto, and he had had plenty of time to say goodbye and make sure his grandpa was at peace before departing.

At Seto's show of sympathy, Crow regained some of his confidence. With a shrug, he said, "I never knew the old man anyways. Can't feel too sorry for a stranger. But I'm glad I went. I know so much more about myself now." With a large, cat-like yawn complete with tongue and teeth, Crow said, "I don't know about you, but I'm beat. Goodnight, Seto." He sauntered over to Seto and pecked him on the forehead. Then he took off his black cloak, shook it out and laid it on the ground, and curled up on the ground by Seto's feet.

With a flush face, and wiping off imaginary spit from his forehead, Seto replied, "Er, yes, sleep seems like a good idea. Goodnight, Crow. Goodnight, Sai. Thanks for always keeping an eye out for us."

Sai shot Crow a hooded look, which Crow of course did not see with his eyes closed, and said in a guarded voice, "Seeing as I don't need sleep, I don't mind watching over you. Goodnight, Seto. Sleep well and pleasant dreams."


	4. Chapter 4

The wrap up! Some events in earlier chapters are explained, and I use pseudo-logic to explain some of the in-game mechanics (aka why there is a difference between Sai the ghost and the killer ghosts that Seto meets).

Disclaimer: Namco, tri-Crescendo, Xseed Games, Rising Star Games, and Kentaro Kawashima all own a slice of _Fragile Dreams: Farewell Ruins of the Moon_.

**Cat and Mouse**

CHAPTER FOUR

Seto's optimistic mood rose with the sun. He felt that Crow and Sai had settled some of their differences last night with that talk. After extracting himself from Crow's entangled grasp—somehow, during the night, Crow had rolled over and ended up half on Seto—he and Sai went in search of water. He found a stream about ten minutes from camp. It was a trickle more than a stream, but Seto was simply happy to find running water. He splashed some on his face, enjoying the feeling of cool water on his skin.

As he splashed more water on himself, Sai said hesitantly, "Seto…what is Crow to you?"

Giving Sai a quizzical look, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean...is he a friend? More?"

Seto laughed. "Of course he's a friend! What makes you ask that?"

Sai looked away, feeling awkward and unsure how to phrase her question. She was hardly older than a teenager when she had died, and was in no way ready for a conversation like this one. Because of that, she skirted around what she really wanted to say. "I'm just not used to seeing friends kiss each other on the forehead before they go to sleep."

"I think that's just Crow's way of saying you're a friend. The first time it happened was right after he called me his friend for the first time."

"The _first_ time? How many other times have there been?" Sai felt a flare of alarm. Seto obviously had no clue about kissing and what it meant. Sai could hardly blame him, considering his isolated upbringing, but at the same time, she wondered if Crow was just as clueless or if he knew what he was doing.

"Only last night. Did I do something wrong?" Seto fidgeted, noticing Sai's alarm and not liking it. He splashed more water on his face as a distraction.

"No, of course not, Seto. Just, please promise me you'll tell me if you ever feel uncomfortable around Crow. Please be careful. When he attacked me, I remember seeing that wild look in his eyes. He was more beast than boy." Shivering at the memory, Sai felt her still sore side. The wound had healed, but a dull ache still radiated from the area. "I've never heard of an attack that lasted so long on a ghost, either. There's something dangerous about him."

Seto laughed dismissively. "Dangerous to birds, maybe. I know you two got off to a bad start, but please give him a chance, Sai. I don't want my only two friends to always be fighting."

"For you, Seto, I'll give him another chance."

Seto said gratefully, "Thank you, Sai. That means a great deal to me." And with those words, they resumed their former task. Seto filled a flask, drinking deeply, and then refilled it to bring back to Crow. By the time he returned to camp, Crow was already awake and looking twitchy. When he caught sight of Seto, though, the tension melted from his shoulders. He called out, "I was starting to get worried that a bear had carried you away to be its adopted cub."

The brunet chuckled. "The real story's nowhere near as interesting, but I did find water. Here." He tossed Crow the flask of water, which Crow guzzled.

With a content sigh, Crow wiped his mouth and said, "Thanks. But next time, wake me up first. There's no telling what's in these woods and I would feel better if you had company." When Sai gave an indiscreet and pointed cough, Crow corrected himself: "_Living_ company."

So much for last night's truce holding in the morning. Before a real argument could break out, Seto hastily said, "Let's hurry up. I want to give Chiyo her moon and get into that room."

At that subtle reminder of what—or rather, _who_—drove Seto's determination, Crow frowned and kicked more dirt onto the dead fire. Sai gave the raven-haired boy a small frown of her own, and Seto remained oblivious and cheerful as he finished packing everything into his backpack.

* * *

As Sai had predicted, Chiyo wasn't any happier to receive her moon than her sun. With a precursory glance at the wooden moon, she said an obligatory "thank you" and then went on to demand that they bring her back her silver ring. It was silver and had a heart in its center—which was more than Sai could say about the girl herself, if she were so inclined to voice her opinion aloud. And she was not, thank you very much. She had already made her low opinion of Chiyo known to Seto, but the softhearted boy still wanted to believe the best in everyone. It was one of his best features, but also an increasingly worrisome trait as far as Sai was concerned. The more time she spent with Seto, the more she felt like a protective big sister trying to defend her gullible baby brother.

"The ring's in the hotel restaurant? All I'm seeing is one very large tree…and is that thing moving?" Crow squinted to get a better look at the tree across the room, vertical pupils dilating to an alarming proportion to take in more light, just as the tree in question slapped a root against the ground. He gave the room a skeptical once-over, but made no move to enter. The wooden flooring was smashed in several places, and shattered remains of tables and chairs were piled by the walls as if thrown there by some great force. "Do we really have to do this?"

Brought together by a mutual dislike, Sai willingly agreed with Crow for once. Adding her two cents, she said, "You know, as a ghost, I can just float through the wall and see if there's anything important in that room Chiyo's guarding. We really don't need her at all. And I, for one, am tired of playing gopher."

Seto stubbornly shook his head and gave his companions a disapproving look. "We promised her we'd get her back her ring, and that's exactly what I intend to do."

It looked like Seto really was the only one who had any faith in Chiyo, and if anyone could guilt the world into becoming a better place, it would be Seto. Crow and Sai felt a little contrite due to that look…but not enough to start searching for what could very well be an imaginary ring in a room full of very real danger.

With a sigh, and still giving his friends a reproachful look, Seto stepped into the room. As soon as his worn sneaker hit the floor, three things happened all at once. Sai yelled, "Seto, look out!"; Crow tackled Seto to the ground with impossibly fast reflexes; and a spear-like tree root imbedded itself in the wall directly above Crow and Seto.

With a worried moan, Sai disappeared, leaving in her wake the words, "I can't bear to watch…"

Crow and Seto shared a wide-eyed look. With Crow directly on top of him, Seto could feel the raven-haired boy's heart pounding with adrenaline. His hands gripped Seto's arms so tightly that his nails felt more like claws, they were poking at him so sharply. Crow opened his mouth, but never got the chance to speak. The root pulled itself out the wall, tearing away chunks of plaster that rained down on the two boys. In a flash, Crow pushed Seto away and rolled to his feet.

"Hey ugly! Over here!" The tree must have had some intelligence because its leaves rustled angrily and its next volley of spear-like roots all snaked towards Crow. Seto forgot to breathe as he watched Crow's inhuman acrobatics. He flipped, contorted, and weaved with fluid grace, leaving roots stuck in the floor, in the walls, and even one in the ceiling. As the tree struggled to extract its roots, Crow took the chance to catch his breath. "Any bright ideas?" he called out between gulps of air.

Seto swallowed and tightened his grip on his metal pipe. "Not any you'd like." And with that, he let adrenaline and fearful determination propel him forward, lead pipe raised high over his head. The tree trunk had a bulbous protrusion that pulsed steadily, and Seto aimed at the conspicuous spot. The hit was solid but the wood was unyielding, and in the end Seto did nothing more than drive the tree to an even greater frenzy. The tree twisted violently, wood bending until it protested with shrilly creaks, and Seto felt himself thrown across the room by the broadside of a thick trunk. The unforgiving wall sent flares of pain up his spine and he felt the back of his head crack into the plaster.

A distressed noise escaped Crow, but Seto wheezed out, "Hit…it…" as he rolled his lead pipe towards Crow. He flopped onto his stomach, trying to push himself back onto his feet. A bout of vertigo brought him back to his knees.

With one last worried look at Seto, Crow tore himself away with a startlingly fierce growl. Seto gasped in pain—"the pipe"—as Crow charged the tree weaponless. The boy practically flew as his namesake suggested, dodging increasingly desperate attacks. Roots and branches slithered over the bulbous protrusion with increasing agitation at Crow's swift approach. Although Seto's vision pulsed in and out with the pounding of his headache, he could have sworn that the tree roots shuddered in agony whenever Crow ran his hands, fingertips spread, over the roots. And were the roots always covered with claw-like, thin gouges?

Seto managed to drag himself to his knees and started to crawl towards his pipe, determined to rejoin the fight. No matter how good an acrobat Crow was, Crow didn't stand a chance without a weapon. Seto had barely dented that solid wood with a swing carrying his full weight and force. He was still working on coordinating his spasming fingers to curl into a fist over the pipe's smooth contours when he heard such a horrendous cacophony of noise that he flinched and dropped the pipe all over again. He looked up, which caused the pain to flare in his head, and watched with increasing confusion as the tree writhed in pain and Crow, somehow, someway, managed to hack off limbs with his bare hands. Crow fought his way to the center of the trunk, and with a bone-rattling roar more suiting for a lion or tiger than a boy, plunged his hands _into_ the wood knot. He pulled with all his force, sweat rolling down his face and neck, until he had created a small opening in the wood. Seto got a glimpse of a ruby red, pulsing heart, before Crow plunged his hands once again into the opening and the tree gave one final death knell, its shaking leaves like the whispers of a thousand dead souls. When Crow removed his hands from the tree, they were coated red and dripping.

Seto gave up trying to rise to his feet, his messed up equilibrium making the world spin madly at every attempt, and rolled onto his back. Fighting his pounding headache, he pushed words through clenched teeth, "How…did you…do that?"

Crow, who had been facing the tree and absolutely still as if in a trance, jumped at the sound of Seto's pained voice. He burst into a flurry of action, running to his fallen companion's side. His knees cracked harshly with his hasty drop. Although his eyes didn't meet Seto's, instead choosing to scan Seto's body for injuries, his gruff voice held worry and affection: "Worry about yourself. Where does it hurt the most?"

"Everywhere?"

The raven-haired boy ran a shaking, gentle hand over Seto's cheek, fingertips smooth and slick with blood. He jerked his hand back, hissing in surprise at the bloody marks he left, as if he had forgotten all about the blood. Feverously wiping his stained hands on his black cloak, the gruff persona he had been trying to enact shattered and he said in a thin, wavering voice, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"I d-don't know," Seto stuttered, his tongue growing clumsy in fear.

For all his swagger and death-defying feats, Crow was still a boy not much older than Seto. He didn't have the slightest clue what to do and panic was setting in. In his storybooks, the hero never got hurt.

Sensing the room's killing intent fade, Sai reappeared, shamefaced. She hated how she always abandoned Seto during a fight, but when the fear set in she always found herself wishing to be somewhere else; as a supernatural being powered by thought, her thoughts of elsewhere always turned into reality. Her question of "what happened" turned into a shocked gasp when she saw Seto, limbs askew, laying on the floor.

Crow whirled toward her and nearly shouted, "What do we do?"

Feeling overwhelmed, Sai stuttered, "Uh, okay. We need to stop the bleeding. Uh, use strips of your cloak and bind any wounds. We can, uh, sterilize them later."

Even as Crow began to tear strips off his cloak, using his sharp canines to rip the fabric, he said tightly, "The bleeding's not bad, but he's not focusing. He hit his head pretty badly. Is it, is it internal?"

"Quiet please? My head is pounding." The young boy grimaced, eyes attempting to focus on his fretting companions. Who continued to fret, but did lower their voices to a panicked whisper.

Sai closed her eyes and took an imaginary deep breath. She could do this. As a sickly child all her life, she had been in and out of hospitals all her life. She could do this. She had the knowledge; she just had to remember. Drawing on her memories of a fourteenth birthday party gone horrendously wrong when she smacked her head against the side of a table, she snapped back into the present and said with more confidence, "Then he probably has a concussion. Use the rest of your cloak as a pillow to keep his head elevated. Honey"— this she said directly to Seto, speaking in a soothing voice—"I need you to stay still, but don't fall asleep. We're going to need to see if you feel better in twenty minutes. Do you remember blacking out at any point?"

Seto obligingly rested his head on the impromptu pillow Crow made. He tried bravely to give a smile that turned into a grimace, and joked, "Wouldn't it be hard to—ah—remember blacking out?" Seeing as neither Crow nor Sai appreciated his effort at humor, he added, "No. My vision just jumps in and out. Need to rest my eyes…"

Seto's eyes started to flutter close, but Sai's sharp voice made him jolt into alertness again. "Oh no you don't, Seto! Stay awake, _please_. Crow, see if you can find some Tylenol to help the headache. Do _not_ give him anything with aspirin or ibuprofen. That could worsen the bruising."

"Got it." In a flash Crow was gone, chanting under his breath 'Tylenol, no aspirin or ibuprofen, Tylenol' as if it were a prayer.

Alone with a boy wavering in and out of consciousness, Sai settled down by his side and ghosted a hand over his forehead. For once, she hoped that she emitted an unnatural cold like ghost stories always claimed. She couldn't touch or feel him, but his flushed skin meant he was probably overheating. She half muttered to herself, "I wish we had ice—hospitals—one-one-nine—adults to take care of this. Dammit!"

Seto shifted to bring his forehead close to Sai's delicate, transparent hand, seeking that wonderful coolness. His eyes were better able to focus on Sai, relief evident in them. Pain and curiosity warred against each other, with curiosity finally winning. Seto asked in a tightly controlled, slightly pained voice, "What's a…one-one-nine?"

Sai shushed him fondly, and answered, "It's Japan's emergency number for fires and medical emergencies."

"What's a…Japan?"

Sai took longer to answer that question, and Seto wondered if the question was either too complicated or too stupid to answer. His grandfather never spoke of the past, saying Seto was better off unfettered by regret for a life that would never be. Seto had respected and loved his grandfather too much to push the topic, knowing the pain it brought him. Finally, Sai said in a soft voice, "It's a place I used to live, before the apocalypse. It was a country, a culture, a people, a home. We're in Japan right now, but not really. This world is a shadow of a shadow. In Japan, cities are full of life and light every hour of every day. Instead of burning your feet walking on those long asphalt roads, you'd zip along them in fast-moving cars. The only dangerous animals you find are in zoos behind glass and bars, and people pay to see them sleep or eat or play. You can buy anything you want, eat anything you want, go anywhere you want."

"Sounds magical," Seto said wistfully, eyes unfocused as he imagined a world of such unlimited possibilities.

Sai's smile was bittersweet, and she was glad that ghosts couldn't cry. "It was. We took it for granted, but it really was like magic."

Sai told Seto more about Japan as it was before the apocalypse, and as she dusted off memories she had almost forgotten, the bittersweet feeling became less bitter and more sweet. She remembered pop idols and crushes; ridiculous fads and proud parents; the struggle to fight an unknown illness, with the ups at every proclaimed 'medical miracle' and the downs at every relapse. But above all, she remembered the feeling of _gratefulness_ for every extra day she lived.

The words spilt from her mouth like water, gushing out at times then stuttering, before picking up the pace again. She didn't stop when Crow came back with the Tylenol—expired but hopefully still good—and after he gave Seto two, Crow settled down by Seto's side and listened just as raptly to her. At some point his hand found Seto's, wanting to share this moment with someone, and Seto's gentle squeeze back expressed a twin desire.

Eventually, like a tide pulled back out to sea, Sai's words dwindled to nothing. Spent, she closed her eyes and hugged herself, an involuntary shudder going through her before she relaxed completely, as if finally letting go of an enormous weight. An awed silence fell over them all.

Sai half expected to fade into nothing, she felt so light. When she opened her eyes to see transparent arms covered in gauze and black markings, she didn't know if she was disappointed or relieved. To cover up her indecisiveness, she asked, "Seto, how are you feeling?"

"Much better. A mild headache and my body's sore all over, but I think that's expected when a tree throws you across a room."

"That's good. It means your concussion was a mild one. You should take it easy for the next couple of days, but I think you're out of the woods. And you remember everything that happened?"

"Yes, although a lot of it doesn't make sense. Crow, just what did you do back there?"

Now it was Crow's turn to fall into a pensive silence. The magic created by Sai's voice must have lingered, because Crow found the courage to stand up and face his two friends—and he did view Sai as a friend now, although it was a tenuous bond. "I'm not what you think I am. What I discovered at the lab—the truth—I was angry, and afraid, and worried you would hate me. I didn't lie to you earlier, the lab was smashed to pieces and the man in the photo was like a father to me, but—" And here his voice failed him, choked off by his fears and doubts. His shoulders hunched up defensively, and he felt himself winding tighter and tighter into a spring ready to escape or explode.

Seto knocked the fight or flight response right out of him by saying gently, "Crow, you're our friend. Nothing in your past can change how I feel for you now."

"Are you sure?" Crow muttered bitterly, although he pushed on as if wanting to prove Seto wrong, "I'm a freak. My so-called _father_ is the bioengineer who created me to 'pave the way to a new utopia,' as his megalomaniac journal put it. I'm nothing but a _tool_ he engineered to suit his purposes, _subject twenty-two_, the first to survive the embryonic infusion and reach self-supporting life levels. He viewed me as—" Crow cut himself off, unable to find the words to express his anger. Instead, he paced cagily back and forth.

"Crow, I don't know the whole picture, but none of what you've told me has anything to do with a choice made by you. You've only ever helped me out—"

"Oh yeah? What about when I attacked Sai?" Crow interrupted, "That's what I was _developed_ for, to _kill_, to eradicate the supernatural—"

"_Or_," Seto said with more force to cut Crow off. "Or, you did what you thought was right, even if it wasn't."

"I've forgiven you, Crow, at least most of the way," Sai added with a wry smile. "And a freak, really? Considering the impossibility of everything that has happened so far, I don't think that excuse flies anymore."

The fight went out of Crow. "Fine, fine. Let's see if you feel that way afterward. I'm going to show you something first, since it makes explaining easier. But don't freak, okay?" With that warning, Crow closed his eyes in concentration. His eyebrows furrowed, creating a vertical line between them. At first, the two onlookers wondered what was different, but slowly Crow's nails lengthened and thickened, tapering to deadly ends. The ten claws were a wicked black, and flakes of blood still clung to them from the recent fight. When Crow opened his eyes, the predatory gaze of a deadly feline met their shocked expressions.

"Wow, it's a lot harder to flex them slowly. Usually I just see a ghost, and bam—reflex." The lightness of Crow's statement made Seto and Sai realize this was still their friend, and they were able to see the boy behind the feral eyes. Crow held his hands up high and flexed his claw-like digits. "This is me, cat boy extraordinaire. They spliced human and panther DNA to get a creature that could think like a human and blend in with humans, yet be able to see and cut up supernatural monsters. 'Fight fire with fire,' as they say. As soon as I found out the truth, so many things about myself made more sense, and I was finally able to tap into my true potential."

Crow plowed on ahead, his voice becoming defensive, "So I would say that I was sorry for attacking you, Sai, but it was instinctive. I saw a ghost by Seto, saw that he was injured, and snapped. If Seto hadn't stopped me, you'd be dead—or deader—like all the other supernatural creatures in the park. No questions asked, no guilt, no remorse."

If Sai weren't already dead, she'd probably go paler. As is, she tried to school her features into a neutral expression. "Is it because you're…like you are that I was able to hit you? I've never been able to interact with the world before."

Crow's eyes softened. "It's better that you don't. From what I found out at the lab, ghosts can only affect the physical world or be affected by it when they're driven by anger. That's why Seto can strike the ghosts that attack him, but you're insubstantial. Well, insubstantial most of the time. I can't blame you for slapping me for what I did to you. I deserved it. And more."

"Wounds heal with time. In a strange way, it's almost refreshing to feel something so human as pain. And I can live with my non-life as it is. While it felt good to have contact with the real world, I didn't like the feelings coursing through me. I wasn't a person anymore, just a feeling of hate with the sole intent to hurt. I want to be able to forgive and move on, instead of becoming a slave to that anger." To break up the dreary mood, she joked, "And don't worry, unless you do something stupid in the future, I won't be slapping you again."

Seto got up from his resting position, dusting off the tattered remains of Crow's cloak before slipping it over his own shoulders. "Well, we should probably find that ring Chiyo was talking about, now that we've taken care of the tree."

"Actually, I found it in a cupboard in the backroom while you two were fighting the tree. I guess that's where I ended up when I popped back into existence," Sai said sheepishly, glad for once that her cowardice had a use. Although honestly, now that she knew the truth, she'd rather run than let herself tap into the dangerous anger needed to fight. Her skittish reaction was probably the only reason she had clung to humanity long enough to meet Seto in the first place.

Crow let his claws retract, and said in an incredulous voice, "That's it? You guys seriously accept me just like that? No twenty questions, no test trial, no nothing?"

"Look at us. Do we really have room to judge? I'm a boy crazy enough to swing lead pipes at ghosts," Seto said with light self-debasing humor.

"And I'm a ghost too scared to haunt anyone," Sai added, smiling widely.

Crow gave them both evaluating looks, before nodding in agreement. He drew Seto into a crushing hug and sent Sai a toothy grin. Speaking over Seto's quiet complaints of crushed ribs, he said, "When you put it that way, a cat boy genetically engineered to kill ghosts doesn't seem so strange at all."


End file.
